Making A Memory
by ThePurpleRose
Summary: Lloyd's disovery a photo forces Yuan to relive his greatest journey. He'd thought joining Sylvarant's army was the most dangerous thing he'd do, until he met a certain red-head, embarking on a journey to save the world in the Kharlan war. Fem-Kratos AU
1. Prologue

**AN: Okay, this is an AU. I'll warn you up here that it's based around the concept of Kratos being a woman, but that Colette's journey remains the same as it is in the game. This story will go through the Kharlan war to the journey and will jump between after the journey at Yuan's Flanoir base and the past and the story Yuan's trying to bring himself to tell. It will also not just be told by Yuan; there will be other narrators joining the party later on.**

**But yeah, I don't think I explained this too well... If you've got any questions then you can ask them in a review, 'cause I always respond to reviews anyway, or you can PM me.**

**Also, I know the bases remain intact in the game. I've taken this from the scene at Altessa's house, in which Yuan says that he's going to warn the Renegades before Yggdrasill gets to them (or something along those lines). This also explains why Yuan disappears after Heimdall.**

**I hope you enjoy it! ^_^ Here's the prologue!**

**Note: Chapter One has been rewritten. This prologue and Chapter Two have been edited. 18/01/12**

_**Disclaimer: I'm sadly not rich enough to buy the rights to ToS, but when I am...**_

* * *

><p>Lloyd kicked through the ashes that lay like stale snow on the floor of Yuan's office in Flanoir. The half-elf had been right about Yggdrasill launching an attack on the base, and even though Yuan wasn't homeless as the Triet base remained intact, it seemed only right to Lloyd that he and the others should help out with the restoration of the base. Especially since it was Lloyd's fault by delaying Kratos with requests for training that the two former members of Cruxis had missed their chance to leave with Derris-Kharlan.<p>

So Lloyd had rallied the troops and now eight members of the team who had merged the two worlds into one occupied the room, attempting to salvage undamaged or fixable belongings before work could start on the structural damage. Yuan himself was surveying the damage with Kratos and a handful of Renegades, who had returned from the surrounding area as they had seen the rheairds do the same.

Lloyd wasn't pleased to say that there were remarkably few belongings in the room at all, so they weren't really making much progress.

A loud crash erupted from the other side of the room. Lloyd's head whipped around just in time to see Colette trip over a pile of ash and pull a charred oil painting down from the wall with her as she fell.

"Oops, sorry," she apologised rubbing her head as Zelos helped her up.

"Hey, what do we have here then?" the other Chosen commented, reaching down for the painting.

Under a blackened corner, a wooden box peeped out. Zelos wasted no time in hoisting it into his arms and setting it down on the remains of Yuan's desk, which Genis and Presea were delving through.

"I think you've found some goodies, my little angel."

Colette let out a little giggle, taking a place by Zelos' elbow. Simultaneously, curiosity propelled Lloyd forwards and Genis and Presea ceased their rummaging, instead staring over the desk at the box as Zelos lifted the lid.

"What have you got?" Sheena queried from across the room, both she and Raine pausing in their act of searching the cabinets.

From the box, Zelos removed a large, leather-bound book, something small and white slipping through the pages before he could open it. Intrigued, Zelos set the book on the desk by the box and retrieved the item, only to emit a low whistle as he realised what it was.

"Hey, it's Dad!" Lloyd exclaimed as Zelos began to laugh.

"What is it?" Genis whined, "Lloyd, I can't see it. Tilt it this way."

Zelos snorted. "That's not Kratos. You ever see the old man with a rack like that?"

"That lady looks like Kratos," Colette observed. "Maybe she's your grandma, Lloyd!"

"Let me see!" Genis commanded, leaning over the desk and plucking the picture from Lloyd's hands so that he and Presea could see it. "Whoa, they've got the same hair and everything. Maybe it's hereditary."

"Probability of relation to Kratos; ninety eight percent," Presea reported.

"Open the book," Genis urged, as the rest of the group congregated arounf the object of interest. "I bet there are more."

Zelos didn't need telling twice. He picked up the book with both hands, opening it in the middle to reveal that it was in fact an old fashioned photo album, containing images of varying quality. Of the two pages he had opened, one depicted a green haired lady stirring a pot of broth, accompanied by a man whose face was entirely hidden in the hood of a black cloak. The other was a woman with auburn hair arranged in almost an exact replica of Kratos' hairstyle, leaning on a very familiar double sabre and wearing suspenders.

"The resemblance is uncanny," Regal commented.

"This is fascinating," Raine breathed. "This woman could be Lloyd's aunt or grandmother – such a priceless documentation of history! Turn the page, Zelos."

Zelos did. This time, the image was the green haired woman in a wedding dress with a man who was recognisably Yuan grinning beside her and receiving her bouquet of wildflowers in his face.

"There she is again!" Sheena leaned around Zelos, who smirked at the contact, to point her finger to the next page. It was a photo of an auburn haired woman glaring at Yuan, who had draped an arm around her and pulled her into him, where she stood nearly a head shorter in her patterned red dress. A wide smile dominated his face, fuelled by, or oblivious to, her irritation.

"They even glare the same way," Genis mused. "Flick the page."

Zelos had one thumb wedged beneath the thick sides when the sound of someone clearing their throat reached his ears. The group collectively turned, only to flinch as they saw Yuan tapping his foot in the doorway, looking much less than amused. Zelos hadn't realised just how quietly the half-elf could move if he wanted to.

"Having fun, are we?" he asked, dryly, the disapproving stare still in place.

"I'm sorry!" Colette blurted out, somehow managing to avoid falling flat on her face as she hurried over to an unexplored cabinet.

The group quickly dispersed, leaving only Zelos, who was busy replacing the book in the box, and Lloyd, who had taken the original photo back from Genis, in the danger zone.

Lloyd had clearly decided to take his chances with the unimpressed Renegade leader, striding up to him and presenting the photo with a curious expression. "Who's the woman in this?"

Yuan took the photo from Lloyd, his previous expression being replaced by one of shock. Then his eyes narrowed, undertones of pain darkening their depth, and he hissed, "Where did you find this?"

"It was in the photo album in that box that Colette found," Lloyd answered. "But the woman in this has to be related to me. Who is she?"

Yuan scowled, storming over to the desk and scooping up the box. "These things are private," he said, furiously. "How much did you see?"

"We only looked at a couple of pages," Raine replied, stepping up to the least academic of her pupils and resting a supporting hand on his shoulder. "I admit we should've thought to ask permission to look first, but after the first photograph fell out of the book, we had to look."

"I want to know who this woman is to me," Lloyd repeated, determinedly. "She looks so much like Kratos; she has to be related to him. She looks like his twin or something. At least tell me her name."

Yuan seemed to consider something, looking down at the laughing face of the woman in the photo with haunted eyes, then he leaned back against the desk, released a tired sigh and ran a hand through his hair, setting the box down. "This picture is... I took it in Balacruf. She was my... She was family to me." He ran his thumb along the back of the photograph and shook his head disparagingly; his eyes hardening as he straightened, stashed the photo in his pocket, and moved back to the door with the box under his arm.

Lloyd opened his mouth to ask another question but was cut off as, without turning around, Yuan continued, "Her name is Anastasia. If you want any more, ask Kratos."

With that, he disappeared behind the broken door, even the sound of his footsteps failing to reach the group's ears again as he escaped from their presence. Silent tension congealed the air around the group, slowing their movement like liquid.

Zelos whistled again. "Whew, it seems you touched a nerve there, Bud."

He was quickly silenced by Raine.

* * *

><p>Yuan was physically shaking as he made his way out of his base and into the snow. He wasn't cold. In fact, he was quite the opposite. His face was flushed, his breathing erratic as he sat in the snow behind a large rock. Hugging the box against his chest, Yuan released a pained moan, resting his forehead on his knees.<p>

"Stupid!" he berated, bashing his head against them. "Stupid! Stupid!"

'_Ask Kratos'._ Why had he said that? It was obvious Lloyd would, and then they would be found out and Kratos would have to explain everything about who he really was and why he wasn't who he had been anymore. And Yuan would once again be to blame for the suffering of his dearest person.

'_Well done, Yuan,'_ he inwardly congratulated, leaning his head back against the rock. He should have just avoided the question. But the second he'd seen that smile on that face from that time, he'd stopped thinking and just acted, as he always had. There was a reason he kept those pictures shut away in the box, because he simply couldn't bear to let go of the memories they held but could no longer bear to face them either

Picturing that face in his mind once again, that carefree smile, and hearing that laughter in his inner ears, Yuan sighed again, staring up into the sky. He knew he'd have to tell that story. It was only fair for him to contribute; Kratos was going to struggle on his own and he had made that promise after all, an eternal promise at that.

"I'm sorry, Kratos," he murmured, pausing to give his head a slow, sad shake. "I'm sorry..."

His eyes drifted closed as his mind drifted back over four thousand years to where his involvement in the human's story began, to where his story finally became the kind of story he wanted to be in. All the way back to the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I decided I had to split this really long chapter, so you have a prologue. Don't worry, though; I've nearly got the rest of chapter one typed up and it should be up soon.<strong>

**Any feedback would be greatly, greatly appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading! ^_^**

**~ThePurpleRose**


	2. One

**AN: This is the first rewritten chapter of Making A Memory folks! And trust me, it really needed it. With the rewrite, I'm aiming to make it flow better so it isn't quite as slow. Though I will warn you, this chapter won't be packed full of epic, heart-in-mouth action. I plan to take my time building up the world as it would have been 4000 years ago, and the characters as they could have been.**

**Some characters may seem OOC, most notably Kratos, but trust me, I will be tying them together and they will become the characters we know from the game. I look forward to showing you all the transitions. :) And I know Yuan's ears are round in the game but I'll get to that later on.**

**But yeah, here's the first rewritten chapter! The prologue has been edited to improve it and add details that I should've put in but didn't. But the plot of the prologue hasn't changed. So go back to it if you wish but if you don't then, provided you still remember what happened in it, you should be fine.**

**Recent version uploaded 18/01/12.**

**Ultra long author's note est fini!**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS, and I'm sure the characters would be glad I only own this fic... And then somewhat loosely.**_

* * *

><p>Balacruf was a small kingdom nestled snugly next to the giant land of Sylvarant. In comparison to this and Tethe'alla, it was smaller than an anthill beside a two storey house. It was a tiny blemish on the face of the world, with only a small score of settlements to its name. It had the bark of a Great Dane in the body of a Chihuahua.<p>

Yuan tried to remember this as he trekked through corridors arranged in cold logic and hard perpendiculars, his fatigue numbed fingers gripping the map he had been given tightly. The building was comprised of dull grey stone and lit sparingly with white panelled lanterns that hung from the needlessly high ceilings.

The half-elf took a moment out from his hatred of the map to fervently wish that not all the architecture of Balacruf was like this. Or at least that other buildings were as small as the kingdom was supposed to be or that they came with better maps.

He was trying to navigate to the cafeteria. The darker part of his mind was certain that he was going in completely the wrong direction, because if he was even close to the cafeteria, it was highly likely that he would've run into more people than the lone man he had encountered thus far. His pride lamented his poor sense of direction.

The only thing he had to placate it with was that he _was_ new to the facility – and the entire kingdom it stood in. From the outside, the Military Hall had looked like a great grey fort. Yuan knew differently now. On the inside, it wasn't a fort but a maze. He wondered sparingly the design was actually a test to cut down the sixty Sylvaranti soldiers that the Regional Commanders had selected for this mission.

A giddy glow warmed his insides every time he thought about it, only to be overridden by determination and a spike of the undercurrents of fear that ran like thread through the material of his life. He, a fatherless boy from a blustery village, had been chosen as one of only sixty participants in this scheme.

He was not only going to receive training from the best that Balacruf had to offer; he was making a difference. Those sixty soldiers were the binding ingredient of the alliance between the kingdoms of Balacruf and Sylvarant. They would be ambassadors of peace and war, the first of many soldiers who would be trained in arts of both countries, who would belong to neither kingdom but both at the same time. He was going to be a mix of two nationalities and it was going to be acceptable.

All he had to do start this dream was find his way to the cafeteria so he could fill his glumly protesting stomach with food before he could locate the place where his training would start tomorrow – and memorise the route.

He lifted the map with an impatient sigh, fixing it with a glare that could've set it ablaze had he been a full-blooded elf. Even unfolded to its full size, with comprehensive views of all four floors of the sprawling complex that the inside of this building was, it was useless to have a map when you could no longer pinpoint your current location on it.

With the amount of attention Yuan was paying to his surroundings, he wasn't surprised when he bumped into a wall, especially with the number of right-angled turns this building had been designed with. He was surprised, however, when the wall gasped and pitched backwards.

His hand shot out to grasp the person's arm, steadying her even as he regained his own firm balance.

"Sorry!" he instantly blurted out, taking in her startled expression. "I, uh, should've been watching where I was going."

"Ah, so should I," she responded, her eyes wandered to the crumpled map that dangled from his right hand. "You are new," she added, looking up to meet his gaze.

He nodded, resisting the urge to rub his thumb against the joint of his pointing finger as he did in most awkward situations. He kept his focus on her, noticing the hood of her black cloak that remained caught on the back of her head. It must have fallen when they had collided. But why would she need a hood indoors?

She saw this, her pale hand rising from the folds of the cloak as if to pull the hood back up but wavering and instead tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. The hair itself was plaited and pinned to the back of her head. He briefly wondered if she was a cook and it was like that in order to wear a cap over it to prevent its inclusion in the soldiers' meals but he dismissed that idea on account of the way she carried herself. Her back was straight, her head held proudly in the manner of someone important but with the regimented manner of someone who had been conditioned to be so instead of choosing it herself.

While he had been trying to analyse her, she had been doing the same to him, her wine eyes centring on his uniform. Flicking back to his own green gaze, she observed, "You are Sylvaranti. I see. The programme has begun already. Have you been allocated a squad yet?"

Yuan nodded, his eyes narrowing. What use was the information to her? Why did she want to know? She wasn't in uniform. He didn't even know there were women in Balacruf's military. There weren't in Sylvarant. But he had to tread carefully. The woman may have looked more like a girl but she could very well turn out to be an influential officer and it could benefit him to have met her acquaintance. He knew better than anyone that appearances could be misleading.

There was only one way to find out though. "Squad four," he divulged. "Will I be seeing you in this programme?"

A small smile quirked the corners of her lips. "You might," she said. "However, you are looking for a specific place and it does not appear as though you have had much luck in finding it."

Beneath his hair, he could feel his ears heating up with embarrassment. His pride rebelled against the idea of being swallowed.

"Ah, well," he started, about to launch into a story about he was merely looking to get his bearings with the map and knew perfectly well how to make his way to the cafeteria. Then he saw the steady look she was giving him and knew that even if he said it, her gaze could pierce right through it. It was time to finally ask for directions. "I'm looking for the cafeteria."

She nodded, pulling the hood far enough over her head to hide all but her mouth from view. "It is this way," she said, moving in the direction Yuan had just come from. "I will take you most of the way."

"Thanks," he managed, catching up with her.

"That map you are carrying – did you read it?" she enquired. He couldn't see the top of her face but he was sure that though she didn't turn her head, she was watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Yes," Yuan answered, indignantly. He may only have been seventeen but he was still a soldier and he was neither naive nor stupid in his opinion. He certainly had enough sense not to wander in a random direction, relying on only his sense of smell to guide him to food.

This amused her. It wasn't just the twitch of her lips that made him think this; she just seemed amused, like an aura that emanated from the folds of the material that swathed her.

"You were counting the rooms as you passed each door."

His eyebrows jolted sharply upwards. It was all the answer she needed. The aura of amusement that surrounded her was now almost as tangible as the press of mana against his skin.

"Cupboards and armouries are not marked on the map given to visitors for obvious reasons," she explained. "You would do well to count the corners instead."

"I'll remember that," Yuan vowed.

She said nothing. He realised he didn't even know her name.

"I'm Yuan Ka-Fai," he announced, turning abruptly to offer her his hand to shake.

She stopped dead, lifting her head to look up into his eyes. Through the shadows obscuring her features, he could see her own eyes, wide with surprise. They dropped to the offered hand like their owner wasn't sure what to make of it. Then her lips stretched into a wide smile, though her teeth remained hidden, and she took the hand in her own and tentatively shook it.

"It is an honour to meet you," she responded. It sounded like a line that had been rehearsed and delivered many times but it also sounded sincere and surprisingly warm for such a formal line.

He wondered at the cause of her formality but said nothing, waiting for her to give her name in response. She didn't, simply looking at him strangely, her shaded eyes unreadable to him, for slightly longer than was necessary then turned away and continued walking.

Again, Yuan was forced to lengthen his stride to catch up to her.

"And your name?" he prompted.

Her pace slowed. She turned her head slightly in his direction but not far enough to meet him face to face, watching him peripherally. Her lips pressed together in indecision. Finally, when Yuan had almost given up hope of receiving an answer, she met his eyes.

"Anastasia," she told him, her tone clipped and almost disapproving. "If asked, I would appreciate it if you did not see me."

He could see, even through the darkness that shrouded her face, that her eyes were hard. It was not a request as much as a demand.

He nodded sincerely and she looked away, quickening her steps. He paid little attention to where they were going and more attention to her. A few times he tried to strike up a conversation but she responded to his questions as briefly as she could. The further they walked, the more agitated she seemed to become until at the sound of muffled footsteps, she halted suddenly and looked up at him.

In hushed tones, she said quickly, "This is where I leave you. Turn right at this corner, left at the next then go through the fourth door on your left."

With that, she turned on her heels and strode back down the dull corridor. After a couple of steps, she paused and turned back to him. "Good luck, Yuan Ka-Fai."

The whispered wish reached him as loudly as her directions had. Before he could respond, she drew the cloak tighter around her body then turned again, her head down and her steps muffled.

"And to you," he responded after a short pause.

He thought he saw her shoulders lift but then she turned a corner and was gone.

* * *

><p>Armed with the corner-counting technique and his map, Yuan found that Stadium Square was easy to locate. When he had read his schedule over lunch and seen that his squad was scheduled to meet there the next morning, he had imagined it, from the name, to be some sort of arena where people would fight for the entertainment of crowds and from the name, he had an inkling that is might be square shaped. But his Aeramakan mind had been expecting something simpler and smaller, something as practical as traditional, self-defence swordsmanship.<p>

Only a giant could call Stadium Square small.

The actual square where the fighting would take place was like a small field. Its stone seating stretched up to the roofs of the colossal buildings that made up its sides. Even with his superior half-elven vision, the top rows of three of the sides seemed very far away. Of those three, one of them was the side of the Military Hall and the one opposite it was the Healers' Hall. The building between them was marked on Yuan's map as 'The Lodge', but what that meant, Yuan had no idea.

On the fourth side, the seating was not so numerous but it was ornately carved marble, covered by rich canopy. The structure behind it was a mass of towers and walls, marked only as 'The Palace'. It didn't take someone of Yuan's intellect to figure out what that meant. Nor did it occupy his mind very long before something – or rather someone – else grabbed his attention.

"Let me guess, Squad four?"

Yuan's eyes snapped to the source of the sound. A man with blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes smiled up at him. In his hands, he held two steaming cups, from which wafted a nutty aroma. Another man, this one balancing three tankards in his hands, stopped a pace behind.

"Yeah," Yuan responded with an awkward smile.

The man nodded and flashed him a grin that put Yuan's own attempt to shame. "We're over here. I'm Max, by the way. That's Milo."

In response to this, Milo raised one of the tankards and asked with a lopsided smile, "What's your name, stranger?"

"Yuan," he answered. He was saved from having to say more as they reached an area of grey stone on the Military Hall side of the square where six other men sat.

Milo and Max immediately distributed the drinks before Milo clapped Yuan on the shoulder and announced his identity to the assembled soldiers. That done, he pointed to each in turn and said, "Max and me, you know. That's Tarq, Eytan, Breann, Fearg, Ricardo and Ken."

All six of the seated men were looking at him. Yuan found himself struggling to resist the urge to search with his fingertips for the tips of ears, hoping fervently that they weren't visible, as he did every time someone took an interest in him.

Because they all had ears that were perfectly round and perfectly human. He didn't and if they ever found out that he did, the bonds of the battlefield would mean nothing. The penalty for a half-elf seeking high level employment was death; if he was ever exposed, he would be hung and men he had fought alongside would be invite to cheer for his demise.

He met the squad's curious stares, trying not to imagine how they would look in that situation. He had seen enough executions to guess.

Breann and Fearg, two olive skinned, thick set men with mousy brown hair, green eyes and faces too similar not to be related, watched him with mild interest. Would they be baying for his blood? Tarq, who seemed to tower over them from his perch, spared him only a quick glance before returning his attention to a building across the square. Would he be the type to walk away in disgust? Yuan was tempted to see what he was watching that was so interesting, but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him, so turned to look at Eytan, a pale blonde who smiled warmly but was more interested in his coffee. He was the type who wouldn't turn up.

The black haired man, Ken, broke the silence. "That's nine. Only one man left to meet us."

"Squad four?"

It was then Yuan realised exactly what Tarq had been looking at. The middle aged man who had spoken strode across the square towards the loitering group. Behind him were three female figures, two of whom headed towards the white building that was known as the Healers' Halls.

The other paused, looking after them for a second before hurrying after the man. He knew, even without seeing her face, that he recognised her.

"Yes, sir!" the squad answered, not quite in sync.

The man stopped a couple of feet from the middle of the semicircle they had inadvertently formed and ran his hand through black hair that was flecked with grey.

"You aren't registered to be here until tomorrow morning. But since you're all here, I may as well let you know that I will be your commander. You will know me Swordmaster Minamoti while you're in our kingdom. I will be your teacher and later, the leader of your squad." He eyed the assorted weapons they wore with distaste. "You won't be needing your weapons but I expect you to wear the uniform you were given. Don't forget the gauntlets and shin guards. I'll expect you to reconvene promptly in the morning but this evening is yours to do as you wish – within reason of course."

Here he smiled knowingly, his lined face seeming suddenly less severe. Slighty behind him, Anastasia stood, her auburn hair exactly as before, but the cloak discarded in favour of the lilac dress she had presumably been wearing beneath it. Her eyes, which had mostly been hidden before, scanned the crowd of Sylvaranti soldiers analytically. Even as he regarded her, she turned her eyes to him, recognition lifting her eyebrows.

As if following the gaze of his recruits, Minamoti turned to her, a frown pulling his lips and brow down. "Lady Anastasia," he began. "I recall suggesting that it would be best for your safety and your education if you were to go with Miss Louisa and Lady Elodine to the Healers' Hall."

"I thought it would be better of me to meet a proportion of our Sylvaranti guests while the chance was presented to me," she retorted politely, turning from Minamoti to the soldiers in question and bowing her head respectfully. "Welcome. May this be a useful experience for all of us."

That done, she inclined her head, touching two fingers of her left hand between her eyebrows, and took a step backwards. Minamoti sighed, holding the frown for a few seconds more while Anastasia returned her attention to him. Then he raised one eyebrow in her direction and it faded away. Yuan got the impression that he still didn't approve but he wore a resigned smile all the same, offering her his arm before reminding them to be on time in the morning.

The two natives were half way across the square before any of the men spoke.

"Lady Anastasia in the flesh, and only my first day," Eytan commented with light smile

Just below him Fearg ran a hand through his mousy brown mop and added, "Yeah, I know. M' aunt says she's only sixteen. Hard to think though, ain't it?"

"Hard to think you're actually twenty one too," Breann quipped by his side, laughing as he blocked a punch to the shoulder.

Yuan listened sparingly to the conversation, particularly Ricardo's commentary on the city the things they'd already seen, but his eyes remained fixed on Anastasia and Minamoti as they faded beneath the white stone archway opposite.

If she was a noble then what had she been doing sneaking around the Military Hall? And why was she so interested in a group of foreign soldiers? Something didn't seem quite right about her. And Yuan was determined to uncover whatever secret she had hidden.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, poor ending, I know. But yeah... I think it moves a little quicker than the first one. It's still slow but I'm not sure what I can do to improve that. It will drag less as we get further into the story, don't worry! But I have to set things up so please bear with me?<strong>

**Anyway, rewrite concluded. Onto the next part! :)**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the original version and anyone who reads this version. Feedback is really useful to me. Constructive criticism is appreciated. But anyway, I'll be grateful for all your reactions/ opinions/ thoughts!**

**Until next time (if you stick with it),**

**~ThePurpleRose**


	3. Two

**AN: Rewrite alert! Chapter One of this fic didn't work so I've rewritten it and swapped the chapters (18/01/12). If you've picked up this fic having already read Chapter One then it would probably be best to go back to it and take a look. Not too much had changed for the plot. The Prologue has not been rewritten but I have edited it slightly – not enough to need rereading, just odd words and phrases.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS. I can only accept credit for the fic. I just don't have the awesomeness of Namco...**_

* * *

><p>Yuan had arrived in the exact spot that their teacher had specified the day before bright and early, having gone about his daily ritual of washing, clipping back his ears and laboriously styling his hair, munched on an early breakfast at the cafeteria and even had time to rearrange said hairstyle before the next man, Eytan, had even come into view.<p>

The blond tiredly sat next to him, sipping a drink that smelled deliciously like coffee from one of the ceramic cups stocked by the cafeteria. Its strong stimulants revived him surprisingly quickly, prompting Yuan to wonder if he wasn't the only undercover half-elf in the squad.

But then, he hadn't seen Eytan drink much the night before, so he couldn't be too hung over. Yuan guessed there were some benefits to being underage; one being that he hadn't been allowed to have any alcohol at the tavern they had found the night before. Annoying as it had been then, the benefits had becoming increasingly apparent as he'd seen some members of other squads stumble into the cafeteria with their heads in their hands, wincing at the noise of the kitchen staff.

"Not a morning person?" he finally asked to break the silence, as the twenty year old took the final swig of his drink.

"Something like that," the man responded, setting the cup on the ground by his feet. "Mornings were never really an issue in Triet. If you waited until the sun was up before you got out of bed, you didn't even have to be awake on your way to work. It was so hot it was like being wrapped in the covers all the time."

"Must've been tough to leave," Yuan commented, offhandedly, despite the fact that he, himself, hadn't found it particularly hard to leave Aeramaka or his distant mother, the shadow that only aimlessly floated from room to room, drifting around in the background of his life, occasionally solidifying enough to tell him tales of his brother and absent father, and to weep into her lacy sleeves.

Still, he owed her a debt for bringing him into the world, even if she wasn't willing to acknowledge him. After all, she must have cared for him once, very deep within, as she had kept him, fed and clothed him. She would be looked after. He made sure of it. His aunt was coming to live with her and he still sent a quarter of his wage towards her upkeep.

But that didn't mean he'd stick around for her. He didn't think she wanted him to, remembering the way she'd been the one to first tape back his ears and how she'd enrolled her son as a human boy into Aeramaka's school. He liked to think that before she'd lost her hope with his brother, she had wanted him to be able to go and do whatever he wanted with his life, regardless of his race. This sentiment made it much easier for him to follow the path he was on and harder for him to give up on the goal he believed so much in; that his contribution to the army might help to end the war.

Eytan shrugged. "Nah, not really. I always wanted to travel places, see the world, y'know? That's why, when I got my recommendation from Commander Reynon, I found out as much about Balacruf as I could. I bought maps and everything."

"So that's how you knew that woman," Yuan mused.

"Lady Anastasia, you mean?" Eytan half questioned, half corrected, continuing quickly as Yuan nodded. "'Course I knew who she was. It was weird meeting her in the flesh though. The books I had only had little sketches of her, and none of them looked much like her. I didn't recognise her until Swordmaster Minamoti said her name."

There was a short silence as Yuan digested that and Eytan cleared his throat before adding, "She doesn't look anywhere near as wild as I was expecting her to, though. She actually looked quite sweet."

"Why would she be wild?" the undercover half-elf wondered aloud. Maybe she had a history of sneaking into the Hall. Yuan wouldn't be surprised; she did seem quite desperate for his silence. And she had definitely known her way around.

"You don't know?" Eytan responded, his eyes widening before rolling at Yuan's confused expression. "I thought Aeramaka got all the gossip from Balacruf." He shrugged. "The books all talk about how lucky she is to have been taken into the courts at all after she snuck out of the city with a scouting party of new recruits. Took some medical supplies with her and followed them into the plains. Didn't tell anyone, of course."

Yuan frowned. Sure, it sounded like her family would have been worried, but didn't all children rebel against their parents at some stage. He didn't see why it was a big scandal. "Why would that make her 'wild'?"

Eytan sighed, blowing his blond fringe away from his face. "You really don't know much, do you?"

"I know that Balacruf is its own kingdom and that's it," Yuan admitted, honestly. "I only really bothered with things that concerned me out on the front."

And magitechnology, but the man wearing the small amused smile beside him didn't have to know that. Everyone knew that magitechnology was a scientific matter best left to half elves, and while he was here, Yuan couldn't afford to have anything point towards him being a half-elf.

"Look, Lady Anastasia isn't just some noble of his majesty's court. I mean, sure, she's a noble, but she's actually the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Enye, and she'll take that title. But she's also an orphan."

He paused to swallow, Yuan impatiently jumping in. "Why does that make a difference?"

"It doesn't," Eytan responded with a knowing smirk. "What makes the difference is that her mother's sister happened to marry King Raigan. When the Queen heard that her sister and brother-in-law had been murdered, she campaigned to have the child brought up here, as a member of her own family. Lady Anastasia is supposed to remain in the Royal Compound except for official visits until she reaches adulthood, when she will return to her duchy and take a husband. She's meant to be a model lady. She definitely isn't allowed to tag along with a group of rookie soldiers."

He cleared his throat again. "I was expecting her to be more of a rebel, y'know?"

Yuan nodded thoughtfully. She was definitely that. He supposed a small part of him felt sorry for her, being locked in like a caged animal. It was almost like being a half-elf, being singled out by your lineage and fate. But then, looking up at the grand architecture of the Palace, he envied her for her comfortable lifestyle as well. A part of him wondered why she would risk it for a little more freedom.

Eytan took this as a sign to continue. "I had heard she'd turned it around but still, I expected more of a spark. I know she's doing nurse's training while she's here and she volunteers to help out at the infirmary, but yeah, she seemed a little too tamed for the girl in the books. They don't paint an accurate picture of her."

Yuan nearly snorted. He was willing to bet that they painted a more accurate picture than the other man thought. But the chance to respond was taken from him as they were joined by Breann and Fearg, the latter still looking around like a tourist while the former caught Yuan's eye and waved. He was surprised to find, as the pair of brothers sat down energetically that neither of them were hung over, especially as Fearg had been the one drinking the most of the keg of beer his squad had shared.

The other five members of his squad arrived within minutes, the conversation dominated by thoughts of the training that was to come. While they waited, Milo and Max resorted to a light spar with the pencils that had been in the pack they had been given, much to Eytan's amusement. Yuan split his attention between analysing his fellow soldiers and looking for any trace of their instructor, noticing Tarq, the closest soldier to his age, doing the same.

He didn't think any of them had expected a deep of voice to rumble from behind them on the stone seating.

"Squad Four," Swordmaster Minamoti greeted, all nine soldiers spinning to watch him navigate around them and take his position in front of the startled group. "Your observation could use some work, but at least nine of you were on time."

He sighed, his lips tugging downwards in a disapproving frown before he lifted his clipboard closer to his face and enquired, "Have any of you seen the missing man?"

He was met with silence. With an impatient sigh, the man reeled off the list of their names in alphabetical order, putting a face to each one before giving them a quick introduction himself and an outline of what the training would entail.

It wasn't until the middle aged commander placed in pairs at his feet a selection of wooden swords that he claimed had been enchanted to be heavier than most weapons for training purposes that the missing soldier finally showed himself.

"I think that's our little renegade," their commander commented with a disapproving smirk as he paused in his explanation of the reasons for enchanted weaponry to watch the man casually stroll towards them.

Yuan turned as well, his eyes singling out a lone figure in the mandatory uniform of the transfer trainees with his hands stuffed into his pockets and head hung. His face, Yuan noticed, though partially covered with sleek, black hair, was expressionless, his pale green eyes fixed on nothing.

"So, you've finally decided to join us, Bates," Swordmaster Minamoti greeted, holding out a wooden broadsword by its blunt blade and offering it to the man.

The recruit, whose surname was Bates, took it by the handle, staggering slightly under the weight as he did so. "Yes sir," was his toneless response as he managed a nonchalant salute, leaning the blade on the ground against his leg.

"The next time you turn up late for training," the commander threatened, "I will have you cleaning these steps with a toothbrush. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," the man replied, sounding almost bored.

Minamoti's eyes narrowed on him but he said no more, instead gesturing to the other nine and ordering, "Take up your weapons. Stiles, you first."

If Ken was nervous, he didn't show it, calmly following his directions and straining to pick up the wooden sword indicated by the Swordmaster. He hefted it over his shoulder and, directed by the commander, positioned himself next to the newcomer, receiving a nod of approval.

The other pairs were called in quick succession, their teacher merely pointing to each pair of weapons with the appropriate surname, pairing together Breann and Ricardo, Milo and Fearg, and Max and Eytan, choosing Tarq and Yuan to take the last pile.

The undercover half-elf hung back, eying the weapon as though he could calculate exactly how heavy and awkward it would be. Tarq had no such goal. The man from Hima almost effortlessly plucked one of the swords from the ground, while the others around them did so with difficulty. He may have used both hands but the entire task took the tanned nineteen year old seconds while beside him, the slight figure Max hopped backwards, having dropped the hilt on his foot with a hissed curse. Effort and embarrassment painted his cheeks face red.

Yuan glanced down the row of soldiers to see that the first four were busy familiarising their grip with the unfamiliar weapon. Aside from Bates, who met Yuan's searching gaze with an unreadable stare. Yuan maintained it but when the man didn't look away, he self-consciously bent to retrieve the weapon, fully aware that he was about to look like a puny child in comparison to Tarq.

What he hadn't been expecting, however, was to only be able to lift it a few inches from the ground with both hands before the impossibly heavy item slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor, narrowly avoiding Max's fate. And he certainly hadn't expected, as he scowled and looked up to see who had seen the spectacle, to meet the calculating gaze of his frowning commander and be told, "Try again, Ka-Fai."

He did, the eyes of the elder half of the squad (and Tarq) now entirely focussed on him, while Eytan, Max and Milo still fumbled with their blades, but had managed to hoist them into the air and hold them there. Nobody else had dropped theirs so quickly.

Again, the hilt of the sword started to slip through his fingers like they were coated in butter. The resistance of its weight tore at his grip but it held and he was able to roll it up his leg using his knee for leverage. He couldn't drop it again, not with Minamoti watching him like a judging hawk. So what if he and Tarq were the only squad members who had yet to reach twenty? So what if Yuan was two years younger than everyone else on the squad? He should be just as good at this as the rest of them, shouldn't he?

He had succeeded but he was still only able to maintain his grip on the sword if the tip still rested on the ground. The weapon still felt like an entire armoury in his hands. He only hoped he wouldn't be asked to move now he'd finally got his balance. He didn't want everyone's eyes on him again.

"Good... Good," was the Swordmaster's verdict. "I anticipated that you would need today to adjust. I don't expect great things from anyone today. Now we've passed the first challenge, we'll move on to a light spar."

Yuan paled. To spar, he was going to have to lift this thing at least to his waist and be able to keep hold of it. He could already feel it tugging at the sinews of his arm as both hands held it steady. He quickly checked the rest of squad to see if any of them felt the same trepidation he did. He met the pale green gaze of Bates again.

Determination steadied his aching hands. He could be just as good a soldier as the older man was. He wasn't going to give him – or anyone else on the squad for that matter – the satisfaction of witnessing his weakness. Just because he was the youngest didn't mean he was the weakest. He'd show them; he vowed it on the spot.

"Now, I have paired you all with the person closest to your age to begin with, while I am still determining your abilities. That means that the person you are standing with now is your sparring partner for this week at least."

The fierce pride that had set his jaw instantly retreated at the attack of surprise. Yuan's wide eyes slipped to Tarq, who had now balanced his blade against his leg using only one hand to support it. Any colour he had left fled back to Aeramaka. He barely heard Minamoti give the order to begin, the sword slipping from his hands and crashing to the ground across his feet.

He was doomed.

* * *

><p>Yuan growled in frustration as he hefted the weight-enhanced weapon up to his shoulder, wincing at the burning ache that surged through his shoulder. Tarq seemed to be having hardly any difficulties with the weapon. All he was suffering was slight lapses in balance. It was as though the false density of the weapon merely made its usage awkward for the man, like its weight was that of an ordinary broadsword. But then, Yuan was almost certain that his hands alone were the size of a dinner plate for an ample main course, so it would make sense that something that was heavy to Yuan would be fine for his opponent.<p>

Tarq, who was still his sparring partner, sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he held his weapon ready to counter Yuan's next, most likely to be feeble, attack.

"Let's go!" Yuan growled, the words rumbling deep in his throat through gritted teeth.

He gave Tarq only moments to ready himself before launching into a careless, clumsy strike that ended as quickly as it had started with Tarq lazily raising his training sword up, the resulting collision of blades causing the weapon to fall from Yuan's steadily numbing fingers.

This time, the undercover half-elf swore vehemently, repressing the urge to kick and stomp on the weapon that had become the bane of his very existence. It had been six days since they had first picked up these swords and even with this daily training, Yuan was still barely able to lift the thing. The group was going to be behind schedule now because he was lagging behind. And a liability was not something that he could stand to be taken for.

"Stop, stop, stop," came the tired command.

Yuan turned to meet the sight of Swordmaster Minamoti striding towards him, an expression of tired resignation splashed across his stern face. Yuan inwardly cringed at his own ridiculous inability to wield a weapon that wasn't too different to his own but seemed heavier and more foreign than fighting with stone blocks.

"I'm sorry, sir," Yuan immediately blurted out miserably, an aura of disappointment leaking from every pore. His shoulders slumped, protesting against this sudden movement with dull throb.

The swordmaster shook his head vigorously, making a sharp hand gesture to cut off his new, hopeless subordinate. He cleared his throat before commanding, "Take a ten minute break. Reconvene here."

Wordlessly, Tarq turned and wandered back to the where the other soldiers had bunched together, laughing, joking and chatting. Yuan made to follow him and had briefly noticed Cameo Bates, who had yet to join the squad in any of their trips to the tavern or breaks, stalking away from them, before he was held back with a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Ka-Fai," he began as Yuan turned to sheepishly face him, shame heating his face like he was a naughty schoolboy receiving punishment. "I know you're used to fighting with a significantly lighter weapon and you are the most junior of my students," he conceded, gesturing with a sweep of his arm in an arc to highlight the rest of the squad, who were now halfway to the canteen. "So I can give you a little more leeway, but if you're still showing no signs of this trend abating, I'm going to have to report you to my superiors, something neither of wants... Unless you decide to return to your home country, that is."

"No, sir. I would not like to leave, sir," Yuan responded, determination overriding the shame. An idea seized hold of his mind. This didn't have to be a punishment; it could be an opportunity if he could just turn it to his advantage. He had the Swordmaster's undivided attention, a private audience. And he knew from simply studying the regional commander that appeals were more likely to succeed if done directly.

If Yuan wasn't improving as quickly as the others, if he wasn't as strong as the others, he'd have to show that he was willing to work harder than they were, that he had more enthusiasm for this job than any of his human companions could ever had. He had more to prove than they did. There was more at stake.

The lump of nerves in his throat disintegrated. "Is it possible for me to practise out of hours somewhere?"

Minamoti nodded once, seeming both impressed and disapproving at the same time. "I will allow you to take that weapon away with you this week. You may practise any time after the Palace and the Infirmary are locked up – from nine O'clock at night onwards. Don't abuse my trust, Ka-Fai. Ensure that you make the most of this opportunity and work hard."

"I won't let you down, sir," Yuan promised. And he would succeed.

Minamoti inclined his head one more time, pinning Yuan with a sharp stare before closing his eyes with a small sigh and waving him away. "Yes, well, leave that sword here for now. Your ten minutes are counting."

With that, he turned towards the Palace, Yuan moving in the opposite direction, back to the Hall and his squad. An uncomfortable feeling prickled through the hairs on the back of his neck as he walked, disrupting the usual currents of mana. He caught the feline eyes of Cameo staring at him out of the corner of his eye. The man's face as emotionless as usual but there was something about it, something almost knowing, as if the man was well aware that Yuan didn't belong there. He thought he caught a smirk quirking the corners of his lips as slipped through the archway to the Hall. He was grateful to be out of view.

Squad four all looked up as he joined them in the cafeteria, falling silent as soon as they noticed him. Sympathy and pity drowned in some eyes, while others, namely Ken's, were impassive.

Milo was the first to speak, his lopsided grin almost half-hearted, like an unfortunate reflex. "Hey, Yuan. Did Swordmaster Minamoti give you a Cameo?"

A 'Cameo' had become code now. Every day, their antisocial squad member would put in little to no effort with occasional bursts of energy that hinted at his true level of talent. And every day, Swordmaster Minamoti would threaten him with increasingly more tedious and ridiculous punishments if he didn't step it up. He hadn't yet conformed to this pressure and had done a very bad job at cleaning a row of the seating outside so far during the week. Minamoti was now threatening him with being reported too.

Ironically, Yuan mused, that had in fact been what had happened. Only rather than simply being annoyed because he wasn't performing to his potential, as he was with Cameo, Minamoti was simply aware that Yuan's potential wasn't enough. And Yuan couldn't deny that the feeling of usefulness stung like salting a wound. He thought he might hate Cameo a little, to have the ability he so lacked and not to use it. Yuan would be willing clean the entire stadium with a toothbrush if doing so would enable him to gain to skill to be a soldier who could make a real difference to the war. And there was Cameo, who had that potential, squandering it. And for what – a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning? It was selfish. It was more than selfish; it was just plain pathetic.

"Yeah," he replied, subdued. "Something like that."

From his other side, Max offered him a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it," he advised softly. "We all had a little trouble adjusting and you _are_ the baby of the group. I'm sure you'll get it soon."

From the looks on half their faces, even if Max really believed that, most of his teammates expected him to be going home a failure. That stung even more. At the start, he'd thought that maybe he could belong here like he hadn't really belonged in Aeramaka's ranks. He had thought there could be a chance for him to fit in. They were all transferred soldiers, after all. They were all far from their homeland, all apart from their ancestry. They were all equally out of place. But he guessed even undercover half-elves couldn't settle anywhere.

"Yeah," Breann quipped. "Just as soon as you hit puberty you'll be able to haul two of those."

Yuan punched him on the shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Trust me; all of this slightly dull stuff is important to get us into the plot. I know Kratos didn't appear at all in this chapter, as 'Anastasia' or otherwise, but I do have a good reason for that. I had initially written in a section on the end of this chapter with Anastasia and Yuan interacting, but with that bit, it made the chapter an extra four pages long and it just seemed to fit better in the next chapter.<strong>

**But thanks to everyone who has reviewed this and anyone who's reading it! As always, reviews make my day and help motivate me to write/ update quicker. Also, as usual, constructive criticism is very welcome to help me improve a chapter and my writing in general.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ThePurpleRose**


	4. Three

**AN: Anastasia returns. Chapter 3. This one was actually quite nice to rewrite. This scene was originally just the first section of what should have been chapter 4 but I messed up the order by revealing too much when I wrote the next present day chapter. So I'll see what I can do about that one.**

**I rewrote this purely because the writing could have been better and I didn't like the way I'd written Anastasia. She came across a little too wily for my liking. I can now see her transitioning into Kratos more easily. Although there will be points where she's OOC. A lot happens to her before she turns out like that.**

**NOTE:** **This is important! Chapters 1-3 have been edited and/or rewritten because it was just so slow. As of 18/01/12. Details of the plot and characterisations have changed.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS, just this warped version of its backstory.**_

* * *

><p>A bead of sweat rolled down Yuan's forehead, dripping from the tip of his nose into his dishevelled hair as he panted. The muscles in his shoulders, arms and back twinged as he raised the training weapon. His arms trembled with the effort of swinging the sword down, his grip painfully tight as raw hands locked in place to hold it. Yet still it escaped him with a clatter that rung in his ears.<p>

He'd chosen to practise this particular move because physics dictated that the weight of the weapon would lend the power to the strike that Yuan's own strength couldn't give. Gravity would move the weapon for him, easing the pain of his tortured muscles. But equally, it was this weight being taken by the forces of gravity and velocity that made it impossible for Yuan to maintain his grip on it at the end of the manoeuvre. Either he let it slip through his fingers, or the momentum pulled him down with his weapon.

With a growl of frustration, Yuan retrieved his nemesis, ignoring the stinging sensation of the hilt touching the sore skin of his palms. From the position of the moon, it had long since turned midnight and he had arrived in the stone square promptly at half past nine. He would be lying if he claimed to have enough progress to face Minamoti in the morning. He only hoped he could figure out what he was doing wrong before the grace period he'd been given was over.

"Why can't I do this?" He demanded of the air around him.

"That's simple," it answered back.

Yuan instantly turned in the direction of the sound. Instinctively, he drew the sword around with him. As before, the momentum ripped it from his hands. It smashed against the stone seating at a black clad figure's feet with a crash that resounded through the square.

As she had jumped backwards, the hood of her cloak had fallen again. Her auburn hair was garnet under the moonlight but her shadowed face was undoubtedly the same.

"Anastasia."

She didn't acknowledge him but neither did she replace the hood as she had in the corridor or the Hall. Instead, she picked her way lithely down the tiers of stone seats.

"Or should that be Lady Anastasia?" he corrected.

She paused at this, seeming to flinch beneath the folds of her black cloak. Then she lifted her face, banishing the shadows that had obscured her reaction and told him in a clipped voice, "Anastasia is fine."

When she reached the square itself, she stopped and studied him. There was something deeply serious in her eyes and it made his weary body tense with unease. It was like she was testing him but she already knew the result. She met his eyes deliberately, drawing him into her calculating stare, only for those eyes to slide to the side of his head to where his hair hung.

He got the disturbing impression that it wasn't his hair that she was interested in. It took all of his willpower not to reach up and feel for the pointed tips of his ears poking through their blue prison bars.

"Why are you here?" He asked bluntly. "And what do you want?"

"There is nothing I desire that you could give me if I asked," she replied, equally bluntly. "I am here because watching you abuse your weapon from my balcony grows tiresome. I want to know how long Keru gave you."

"Keru?" Yuan questioned, a frown forming on his face.

"Keru Minamoti is your Swordmaster. I know he granted you this evening session," she responded, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with hard stare like she could use it to spy the answer through his skull.

He responded with an equally calculating gaze. How could she know one but not the other? More to the point, why was she even here? What could she possibly hope to gain from meeting him at Stadium Square on her own anyway? She wasn't supposed to be here; he could tell that simply from her attire. If this was a permitted activity, her finery would be plain to see, not hidden beneath a cloak of the same grade a commoner would wear.

This gave him leverage. If Minamoti was in the wrong in allowing him to train like this, if she was trying to expose him with this information, then she could end up being exposed in turn. It was evident that she hadn't been given permission to be in the Hall that day either. He wondered just how many more of her indiscretions he could uncover.

For now though, he had nothing to lose in telling her.

"A week."

She nodded thoughtfully. "This is the first day."

He responded in the same way and her mouth widened in a slight smile.

"Then we still have time," she concluded, turning back to the seating and starting to ascend the way she came.

Yuan followed. "Wait, what? Why are you – what do you mean 'we still have time'?"

She stopped suddenly and turned back to him, raising her palm to him, her smile wider now. "I mean as I said. There is still time to save you."

With that, she left Yuan to stare with wide eyes at her retreating back. "To... save me?"

"Since you accepted Keru's offer of extra time, I assumed you wish to continue to study under our military. Correct me if I am mistaken."

She was poised above the training weapon now, looking up at him sharply. When he did nothing but shake his head to clear his senses, she turned her attention to it. Without pause, she bent down, wrapped both her hands around the long hilt and picked it up in one smooth move.

Yuan couldn't even control his mind enough to stare properly. He blinked rapidly but the image remained. The auburn haired woman moved awkwardly with the broadsword, one of her hands fitted to the hilt, the other just beneath it. Its size and shape was cumbersome to her in her long cloak, but of its great weight, she showed few signs of strain.

"Y-you!" he managed to gasp. "How?"

"I am surprised you've yet to figure it out yourself." She stopped on the step above him, holding out the weapon by the blade for him to take. He merely stared at it.

"Take it," she commanded.

He obeyed with an audible grunt as its great weight was transferred to him. Her long fingers slid down to the tip of the wooden blade but she did not relinquish her grip. He shot her a questioning gaze: did she want him to take the sword or not?

"Hold it there," she said. "Now what do you feel?"

The questioning glance intensified. "Like I could really do with a coffee."

A soft sound like the beginning of a laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, the corners of her lips tugging at a smile. "No," she chastised lightly, amusement still softening her face. "Focus on the weapon. More specifically, the distribution of weight between us."

Yuan's eyebrows journeyed downwards but he did as she said. The way that each of them held it made it appear as though the blade grew lighter the further from the hilt it was, but he had already studied that when he'd been practising holding it in various combat positions and he was quite sure that this wasn't the case. Or at least, he knew that the difference between the hilt and point in weight couldn't be as much as it currently appeared. Which meant that either she had to be much stronger than she appeared or he was much weaker than he thought he was.

"I would say it's lighter at your end," he reported simply. "But there's no way it can be as light as it looks."

"Is there?" She had raised one eyebrow to ask this of him and now she was sliding her hands back up the blade. She paused with her left hand a few inches from his. "What do you feel now?"

He glanced between their hands, hers smaller yet steadier than his, and finally at the space between. Despite her hands moving closer to the heavier end of the weapon, despite the fact that she now had to be supporting most of its weight, it didn't look as though she was carrying any more weight than she had been when all she was holding had been the tip.

Had it been an ordinary plank of wood, the part in his hands should have felt lighter as she took some of the load from him but it didn't. It felt just as heavy in his hands as it had before.

"Your end is still lighter. Mine is just as heavy." He paused, glancing up at her. She nodded encouragingly. "But that isn't possible. You've taken the weight. It should be lighter. More to the point, just _how_ are you holding that up so easily? I mean, no offense, lady, but you're hardly soldier material."

Her gaze sharpened dangerously. Yuan took in a breath to apologise, wondering just who Anastasia was. The Queen's niece or not, there were too many mysteries coiled around her for the truth to simply be Eytan's story. How could she hope to instruct him with the weapons anyway if all she was was a gentlewoman?

She cut his apology short before he had even started to form the words. "Keru will have told you that these weapons are enchanted."

"He said they were enchanted to be denser than the wood would indicate. And that they were supposed to be weighted slightly different each session to force us to focus on our balance," he recounted. "He said they were enchanted specifically for soldiers. That would mean... You're not a man. So it doesn't work on you?"

She was frowning now. "No," she said simply. "It works on me as it works on any other human."

"Then how..." he trailed off, exhausting multiple theories in the silence that overcame them.

At first, she made no attempt to fill it but as it stretched on, she added, "The enchantment performs the same task for any being with mana actually."

"Any being with mana..." Yuan muttered. The thought struck him like the weapon that caused it. "So, to a being with no mana, it would be no denser and therefore no heavier than the wood it seems to be?"

"Exactly."

"Then..." He didn't want to say it, not in front of her, a human and of noble class no less. But then, from her sincere eyes, the pointed look earlier and the way she had guided this discovery, she already knew. The thought froze his heart, the blood it pumped chilling through his body. He barely breathed his conclusion: "The more mana a person has, the heavier the weapon will be in their hands."

"An untrained elf would be unable to lift it," she finished. "You understand now."

She removed her hands from the weapon completely. Yuan let it clatter to the ground. He fixed it with a look of contempt before lifting his head to meet Anastasia's serious eyes.

"You shouldn't give me that look. If I meant you harm, half-elf, I would have left you to your own attempts," she stated in a low voice. "You have been given a chance. It is more than many get. Please do not squander it."

She gave him a long look. Clouded by the moonlight, he thought he could see sadness tinting their garnet depths, but her eyelids fluttered closed briefly and the moment was gone.

Still something compelled him to say it; "Why have you told me this?"

"Told you?" she questioned. "You worked it out for yourself. Now you know what function the enchantment has, you can think about how best to bypass it. I think we both have seen enough now to know that even the most persistent training with the weapon will never be enough. It isn't the weapon that must be dealt with but the magic behind it."

Yuan retrieved the sword, turning it carefully in his hands with a slow sigh.

"That is enough for tonight," she decided, replacing her hood. "You will be of no use if you do not sleep. I will assume that you will be here again tomorrow night."

"You assume right," he replied as she passed him on her way down the steps. "Thank you."

She paused at the bottom, turning back to him. His keen vision picked up a grim smile highlighted by the moon. "You may thank me by using tonight well and figuring out what you need to do."

"I will," he promised her quietly, determination giving a new strength to his weary limbs. She did not turn again. He did not know if she had had heard.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, so that's the end of this chapter. Technically, this is actually half the chapter... But I thought it would be better to split it instead of ramble on for another 3,000 words. Plus, I'm considering placing in the next present day chapter between the two halves to start getting AnastasiaKratos' point of view coming through instead of narrating through Yuan all the time. But we'll see if it fits or not later.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and read this fic. Any more feedback would be much appreciated.**

**~ThePurpleRose**


End file.
